The Whump Off
by PoisoningPigeonsinthePark
Summary: While roaming the castle, Merlin stumbles across a strange device -a laptop?- revealing a whole new world to him: Whump Fanfiction. He sees that YOU, not Uther or Morgana, are responsible for his life's problems, and declares war on all whumpers...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Firstly, I just want to say thanks to Whirlwind421 for inspiring me to write a fic that mocks whump - sorry whumpers, but you had it coming... Now, I know the anti-whump has been done before, and I'm sure it was done very well - I don't know if anyone's ever had Merlin exact whumping revenge on the whumpers, though... Please review! Let me know if you want to read more, let me know if you don't; let me know if you think you are/know of a whumper deserving of Merlin's revenge in this fic; let me know if you've written something that you think is much better than this, and you think I should go away and stop leaving long author's notes that are essentially just begging you to review. Finally, thanks to Kitty O - who gave me permission (for what, you ask? stick around and you might just find out...) - because I always ask nicely before torturing people. My parents done brought me up properly. **

**.**

Merlin rubbed the massive, throbbing knot in his tense shoulder; trying to work it free with his fingers.

"Aarrrghheeeeooommmpphhaaa!" he exclaimed rather suddenly whilst wriggling his head manically, startling a passing kitchen maid, who sped up after throwing him a concerned look.

_Oh! He was so tense!_

It was all Arthur's fault, of course.

Merlin had spent his entire morning hauling the armour of half Camelot's knights all over the castle; he'd had to bring them down to the training grounds, only to be met by a smug Arthur, who told him - through a grin so wide it didn't seem possible - that they didn't need the armour today, Merlin must have got mixed up. So, in addition to being called an idiot in front of a large group of chuckling nobles, Merlin then had to drag _everything_ back up the three flights of stairs to the armoury single-handed. And then, when he was finally finished, Merlin (being Merlin) was prepared to put it all behind him, and went to go and help Arthur with his princely activities for the day, his trademark goofy grin firmly in place. That was when he very nearly lost control. Arthur had the nerve to say to him, very slowly, that he had '_Specifically ordered him to take the armour down for the knight's training. Honestly, did he not listen to anything at all?'_ and, with a condescending pat on the back, he sent Merlin off to go and carry the armour back down to the training grounds. Again.

That was why Merlin had now lost all feeling in most parts of his back, and was plotting his revenge against Arthur in the form of numerous magical spells (he'd found a good one in a book of Gaius' that made your trousers three times too small - that had endless possibilities…)

And then, all of a sudden, Merlin heard the great, clomping footsteps from around the corner that signalled the arrival of his master.

_No._ Merlin thought to himself, as pain shot through all of his angry limbs. _There is absolutely no way I am mucking out his horses, or tidying his chambers and I am definitely not going to polish his stupid armour!_

As much as Merlin would have loved to say all of this to Arthur's face, he did have some (limited) sense of self-preservation; so instead he frantically scoured his surroundings for a suitable hiding-place.

Merlin let out a quiet curse as he realised that there were no cupboards for him to clamber into…

But there was a door.

It presumably led to a room.

Merlin had never been in the room before, but then he didn't spend much time in this part of the castle…

"_Where_ is that moronic servant of mine? Have _you_ seen him?"

Merlin decided he didn't have any time to waste: in he went.

_Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Grumble. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Grumble. Stomp._

Merlin relaxed his back into the door as the sounds of an infuriated Arthur faded away into the distance.

He allowed his eyes to skim the room he suddenly found himself in.

It was dark.

Too dark.

Frankly, it looked rather suspicious.

Merlin took a few steps further in. There were shelves and shelves of peculiar looking objects; on the wall opposite him was a large piece of paper depicting the very lifelike image of a skinny man standing next to a big blue box. How odd.

In the centre of the room, on an otherwise uninteresting table, was a strange, silver device.

Merlin pulled a chair up in front of it, and studied the contraption carefully.

_What on earth did it do?_

He lifted the lid, and was intrigued by the light that flooded the screen.

"Magic…" he whispered dreamily to no one in particular.

_Microsoft Word?_

He slid his finger over the mouse pad, and was delighted to find things opening up for him.

_Minesweeper? _

_Useless._

_Music?_

Merlin huffed at the bizarre, tinny noises that filled the room following his clicking on _that_ button. That was not music. He couldn't hear a single lute.

As peculiar and indecipherable as a large portion of it was, Merlin enjoyed himself immensely. Eventually, he clicked on "Internet".

Scrolling through a list of websites the owner of this odd device apparently liked to look at, Merlin found himself confronted with several 'search engines'.

_He could search anything?_

The desire to Google oneself is something that appeals to the modern and the medieval alike: Merlin was no exception. He was more than a little baffled by what he discovered…

_Fanfiction?_

Something deep within Merlin's stomach - call it a warlock's intuition - told him to leave it alone: no good could come of clicking on anything alliterative. But he clicked on it anyway.

Oh, how he wished he hadn't.

The second he did, he jumped back from the contraption in horror.

_Why would anyone write about him and Arthur doing things like that?_

He stood in a far corner of the room, eyeing the creation with a great deal of suspicion. It merely sat there, unblinking. Try as he might, he could not resist the urge to click. The hold it had on him was too powerful… Merlin felt himself being drawn back towards it, even though he knew it would do him no good.

Merlin pushed his concerns as to how these people knew so much about his life and his magic - _wait, what? Who told them?_ - aside for the moment, he would have to read more to understand their motivations, and whether they were friends or foes…

_How To Accidentally Kill A Warlock?_

_That sounds amusing…_

Merlin was sorely disappointed, for amusing it was not. It might have been highly satirical, and Merlin was sure it was hilarious: as long as it wasn't _you_ being stabbed in the back with broken goblets and tortured by evil witches…

It just got worse from there on.

There was story after story after story.

He even found one that described Arthur sending him on pointless errands carrying armour up and down staircases for an entire morning - whoever had written that was going to get a strongly-worded email expressing his discontent!

He was punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit; and, the greatest blow of all: after each and every disgusting one, the sadists would leave comments _complimenting_ each other on how very well they had done at being cruel to him!

Merlin thought back over all the times he had ever suffered… All the times he had ever writhed in pain that had, at the time, seemed oddly melodramatic, poetic or ironic. He narrowed his eyes. _It was their fault, not Arthur's!_ These people! Whoever they were, they were torturing him, and he was going to have to put a stop to it, one way or another.

Merlin opened up that Microsoft-whatever-thing again, cracked his knuckles, and started typing, cackling a little as he did so.

"1…2…3…4… I declare a whump war!" Merlin muttered, grinning madly as he conjured up all kinds of bizarre and painful plot devices.

He was going to give these writers a whumping they would never forget.

_Starting with you, 'Kitty O'…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the fantastic response the first chapter of this story got - I was blown away! I really hope you like this chapter, sorry it's been a while coming... Can you forgive me? If you do like it, reviews are much appreciated - especially if you want to recommend someone who deserves to feel the wrath of Merlin. :)**

After a good three hours spent thoroughly scouring the 'profile' of this notorious Kitty O, Merlin decided upon a course of action…

The time had come for Mervenge.

Merlin paused, scratched one of his abnormally large ears and squinted a little.

'Mervenge'?

That had probably sounded better in his head.

Mervenge sounded more like cranky mermaids than the wrath of an almighty warlock.

He might have to rethink that…

But the basic principle was still the same, whatever it was called.

He was going to give this 'Kitty O' a whumping she would never forget…

.

Kitty O strolled into a sitting room that looked familiar, but, if she thought about it too hard, wasn't actually her sitting room; plonked herself down onto the generic, grey sofa, and let out a grunt of acknowledgement at a person who she was fairly confident was supposed to be her brother.

He ignored her.

She fumbled around for her laptop, ideas for a new story involving large doses of angst rebounding around inside her mind, demanding to be written. "Where is that stupid laptop…?" she muttered to herself, trying to remember where she had left it the night before.

But, try as she might, she couldn't find her laptop anywhere.

It had vanished.

"Have you taken my laptop?" she inquired, baffled as to where the thing could possibly be.

"No, Kitty O. I haven't taken your laptop," her brother responded in a bland monotone.

"What? Why are you calling me 'Kitty O'? That's not my name…" For whatever reason, Kitty O decided that she wasn't going to think about that for very long and instead started crying. "Where's my laptop?"

"You cannot have your laptop back, Kitty O. You cannot be trusted with it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are a cruel girl, Kitty O. You claim to love me, but you cause me pain."

"WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING ME KITTY O?"

"Because I don't know your name."

"What? That doesn't make any sense… You're my brother!"

"Am I?" he asked, and promptly ceased to exist. In his place stood a man Kitty O would recognise anywhere.

"Merlin! Well… This has to be the weirdest dream ever."

"This is no dream, Kitty O. This is a nightmare."

"A weird, melodramatic nightmare."

"No. This isn't a nightmare."

"But… you just said it was a…"

"This is a fanfiction."

"Oh. Okay." Kitty O vaguely remembered once having seen on a TV programme that you should go along with crazy people until you work out what their angle is. "Do you have my laptop?"

"Yes. I am afraid you cannot have it back."

"Why not?"

"You have chosen to abuse its power."

"In what way?"

"You have tortured me… You have made me suffer… I cannot allow it to continue."

"No offence Merlin, but you don't seem to be particularly in character."

"Why?"

"Well… You're the nice one. In fact, you're a bit girly; only... now you're trying to act like this big, scary macho man. I'm not convinced."

Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and he resisted the urge to cry as he would normally have done (he didn't want to prove her right) "Well… I am kind of new to all this… You could try just cutting me some slack…"

"Cutting you some slack? Because _that_ sounds medieval…"

"Enough! You will show me some respect!"

Kitty O seemed unimpressed. "Well, now you just sound like you're doing a bad Uther impression…"

Merlin hissed at her and barked in his scariest Dragon-Lord voice, "I am a great and powerful warlock! All you have is sarcasm! And sarcasm is the lowest form of wit!"

"That was mean…"

"Oh… I get meaner…"

There was an expectant pause, as Kitty O waited for Merlin to demonstrate this apparent 'meanness'. He did nothing. He just stood there, chewing his lip, looking a bit uncertain. He wasn't really sure what to do next.

She raised her eyebrows. "Fun as this is… Can I have my laptop back now?"

Merlin was just about to refuse her request when he was struck by an ingenious idea. "Yes Miss Kitty O. Of course you may have your laptop back."

The glint in his eyes as he said this ought to have made her uncomfortable, but when her laptop materialised back in her lap, she realised she didn't care what it was Merlin was up to: she had a story to write.

Merlin stood over her, watching as her fingers flew over the keyboard in a practised manner. "What are you writing?"

"Nothing."

"Is it about me?"

"Um… No."

Merlin had spent enough time in the company of one Morgana Le Fay to be able to detect a lie. But he said nothing. He simply smirked in an alarmingly Morgana-like manner, and watched the words "Merlin" "Freya" and "painful memories" appear on the screen in front of him.

"That looks like it's about me," he pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling; trying his best to look scary and only really managing to look constipated.

"Well it's not. It's another Merlin."

"And another Freya?"

"Yeah."

"Another _dead_ Freya?"

"Yeah."

"How many Merlins with dead girlfriends called Freya do you know?"

"Err… Just the two. You… and this guy."

"I don't believe you." Merlin watched the words appearing on the screen, and tried his best not to squeal in frustration. "Why are you making me cry? Why do you people _always want to see me crying_?" he demanded as salty tears trickled down his cheeks.

She shrugged. "You look quite cute when you cry."

"_I LOOK CUTE? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU FORCE ME TO SPEND HALF MY TIME BLUBBERING LIKE A BABY BECAUSE YOU THINK IT MAKES ME LOOK ATTRACTIVE?"_

"Uh… Pretty much, yeah."

"Don't you think I have enough to deal with? I'm pretty much the only person in Camelot who ever saves the day, half the people I care about have died in my arms and my best friend refuses to give me a cuddle! I don't need you making me weep for your own sadistic pleasure!"

Kitty O didn't appear to be paying much attention to him, she had reached the point in her story at which Merlin was confronted by a big scary monster.

"And what's this?" he asked, leaning over her shoulder to squint at the words rapidly appearing before him. "A hideous creature with the body of an ox, the face of a toad and the ears of a donkey… Are you describing Arthur?"

Kitty O pointedly ignored the witticism, as she instead described the beast sinking its hooves into Merlin's pale flesh.

"Are you serious? Why do I always have to end up beaten, bloodied and bruised? Why don't I ever just get to go to the tavern with Gwaine?"

Kitty O was now thoroughly tuning Merlin out as she began to write the tensest part of the story: the moment where he recited his spell.

"I have another question…"

Kitty O did not ask Merlin what this question was for two reasons: she was not listening and she did not care.

"Why can't the spell I say ever work first time round, huh? I'm a powerful warlock… Why do I have to whisper the spell a few times before I say it with feeling and then really yell it to get it to work? Why does everything have to be so tense and dramatic?"

"And another thing… Wait… What are you doing now?"

Kitty O seemed to be getting really animated as she typed, as if this was the bit she had been waiting for. What she wrote now was the nasty, grisly bit at the end; where our brave hero has to limp home against the odds, writhing in agony, pain shooting through his limbs, only to collapse on the forest floor, cold and lifeless…

Merlin recoiled in horror. "Will I survive?"

Kitty O shrugged and yawned. "Not my problem."

Just as Merlin was about to burst into fits of girly tears at the sheer unfairness of it all, he remembered that _he_ was actually writing this story; he was in control! It was time he put his foot down…

The girl resumed her typing and Merlin's eyed flashed gold as he glared at her.

For a second, it seemed that nothing whatsoever had happened.

And then Kitty O's fingertips began to swell.

It was hardly noticeable at first; they just seemed to bump into one another a little as she typed.

And then the swelling continued.

Her fingers expanded and expanded, stretching out into great, chubby sausages that chafed against each other as she struggled to lift them.

Although her hands were now massive clumps of meat on the ends of her arms that she could only mash uselessly against the keyboard, Kitty O would not be beaten. She glared at Merlin and produced a pair of chopsticks from nowhere in particular; shoving them up her nostrils and using them to tap at the keys.

Merlin hadn't been expecting that.

"You shouldn't hurt women, you know…" she pointed out, struggling to type with her nostril-chopsticks as the veins on her hands practically popped out of her skin.

Merlin frowned: he hadn't thought about that. Luckily, he had a solution.

The warlock screwed his eyes tightly shut, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like gibberish, and, when he dared to look, the person whose hands had swollen to the size of a pair of baby elephants was now a very large, burly boy.

That took care of the problem.

The now-masculine Kitty O scowled up at the man she had (up until recently) thought she loved. She watched him chuckle at her misery, and decided she didn't love him quite so much anymore. She tried to tell him this, but found the words getting stuck in her throat. She could say nothing except, "You're so awesome, Merlin."

Merlin grinned and bowed a little, causing her to glower at him.

"Can you at least make me a girl again?"

Merlin paused, scratched his chin thoughtfully, and then beamed at her. "No!" he announced, far too cheerily for a person who was currently engaging in torture.

Kitty O's hands blew up further.

At some point, Merlin had apparently decided to pump her palms full of helium (how he knew what helium was, was not his concern at that precise moment) because her ever-inflating mitts were now beginning to raise themselves heavenward, lifting her body off the ground with them.

"Merlin!" she squeaked, as she sailed upwards to be stopped only by the ceiling. "Get me down from here!" Kitty O demanded as she bounced over his head.

Merlin grinned.

"If you're sure…"

And with that, Merlin dislodged the chandelier she was currently clinging to and sent it cascading down on top of her.

He shuffled awkwardly as she lay on the ground, trapped under the weight of the light fixing, her hands continuing to enlarge until they practically filled the entire room. "Right… I guess I'll be going then!" And with that, Merlin skipped off merrily back to Camelot, leaving Kitty O suffocating under her own enormous fists on the floor.

.

"And… Submit document!" Merlin leaned back in his chair, grinning madly at the computer screen in front of him.

He'd never been quite as proud of himself as he was right then. Sure, he'd fought griffons, dragons and the living dead… But this… This was something different… This was a victory he could really revel in. The written word! He'd actually been surprised at how easy it had been; so much of it had just written itself.

Merlin pushed the nagging little thought at the back of his head that had decided to be annoying and point out the hypocrisy of him deciding to torture his torturers for torturing him, and instead searched for more whumpers deserving of his revenge…

There was a loud crack, followed by an even louder smash from the room above, and Merlin let out an exceptionally piercing girly squeal.

Gaius came running (well, toddling) towards the source of the scream. "Gwen? Are you alright?" he inquired, peering around the door. "Oh… Merlin. Did you make that noise?"

"Err… No."

Gaius didn't seem convinced. He took a look at the strange, shiny device in Merlin's lap. "What are you doing?"

Merlin thought it would be a good idea to change the subject as subtly as possible. "What was that crashing sound?"

Gaius rolled his eyes. "Oh… It's Arthur. He has noticed that a large number of the light fixings appear to be somewhat insecure, as they are always coming loose and landing on the heads of evil people - his words, not mine - and so he has decided to conduct an experiment to ascertain whether or not they pose a serious threat to the court."

Merlin looked slightly guilty; after all, it _was _his fault that chandeliers would randomly come crashing down on people's heads. He probably did do that too often…

Gaius tried to peek again at whatever it was Merlin had positioned between his legs, but relented after Merlin went to great fidgety lengths to conceal it from him. Gaius chuckled. "Whatever you want to do in your spare time, Merlin…" and then the physician turned to walk away, ignoring the sounds of Arthur screaming at people and stomping around above them.

Merlin let out a breath that he had been all too aware of holding and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, scratching _Kitty O_ from the top of the list.

He tapped his pen on the next name down and an evil glint appeared in his eye.

'_Loopstagirl_' was in for a surprise…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Helloooo! Sorry it has been too long since I updated - I'm annoying myself with the slowness of my progression with this story... But... Hey-ho! Real life stuff just happens, and it can't be helped. I'm afraid this story might continue to be slow in its updates, because my brain has currently been usurped by the other ongoing crackfic I'm writing - readers of _Caught in a Slash_ will understand that it is just too much fun for me to spend much time doing anything else... Sorry... Just wanted to quickly say, before this chapter begins, I know a lot of you expressed concern for Kitty O's wellbeing, and I have it on good authority that she's doing just fine. I also wanted to get it out in the open that this is all being written purely in the pursuit of comedy. I like Kitty O. She was the first person ever to review one of my stories and she has been consistently nice to me. It's Merlin who has a problem with her, not me! As for Loopstagirl, she is also unremittingly lovely and has been nothing but friendly towards me, AND I LIKE BOTH OF THEM A LOT SO PLEASE DON'T HURT ME FOR WHAT YOU'RE ABOUT TO READ... But you know what you could do? You could review. That would be good. :) **

Arthur eyed Merlin's front with great suspicion.

His manservant's protruding stomach was unusually square, and, if he wasn't mistaken, appeared to be _beeping_.

Merlin shuffled awkwardly about the room, finding it difficult to bend over and pick up the various things Arthur had left scattered around (that he was more than capable of picking up himself), on account of the fact that he had his laptop stuffed down his trousers.

And he was receiving emails.

_Beep._

"Merlin… Are you making that noise?"

_Beep._

Merlin played up his natural appearance of innocence: widening his eyes even more than normal and scratching one of his sticky-out ears. "What noise?"

_Beep._

"That noise!"

Merlin frowned and returned to the arduous task of collecting a pile of his master's dirty underwear. "I don't know what you're talking about, Arthur."

A small red light (which indicated that the warlock's laptop was running out of battery power) flashed through the flimsy fabric of Merlin's shirt.

"And now you're flashing!"

A slight blush crept across Merlin's pointed cheekbones, as he recalled a rather unsavoury story about himself and Arthur he had happened to innocently stumble across the other day…

Flashing was certainly the _last_ thing Merlin intended to do in front of Arthur.

_Beep._

"Oh! Come _on_, Merlin! You can't tell me you're not hearing that?"

Merlin shrugged casually, dumping Arthur's soiled undergarments in a waiting laundry basket. "Maybe you're just hearing things…"

And with that Merlin sauntered past Arthur, beeping away as he waddled off out of the bemused Prince's chambers.

Merlin was just about to make a clumsy descent down the stairs when he was confronted by Gwen scurrying up.

"Merlin!" she greeted him with a grin that dropped from her face at the sight of his stomach. "Have you put on a little weight…?"

Merlin waved the question away with his hand. "I'm just a bit bloated. All that rat casserole Gaius makes, it's very filling… Would you take these for me?" he asked, dumping the laundry in her arms without even waiting for a response.

"Err… Merlin?" she squeaked, causing him to halt midway through running away. "Is this a pile of Arthur's dirty underwear?"

Merlin shot her a goofy grin, which grew even wider as her cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink.

"Please Gwen!" he begged over his shoulder.

"Um… I'm not sure it's appropriate…" she tried to protest, but he'd already gone.

Gwen sighed, hugging the clothing closer to her as she started back down the stairs. _Going to the washroom would only make her a little bit late,_ she reasoned. _Besides_, she thought to herself, reeling and nearly losing her footing as she caught a whiff of the offending garments, _she'd missed the smell of Arthur…_

**.**

As soon as he turned the corner, and was absolutely certain he wasn't being watched, Merlin hopped into the seclusion of the nearest alcove and retrieved his laptop from the front of his trousers.

He waved his finger in front of the dimming screen and muttered (in as magical-sounding a voice as he could) "Geinne."

The laptop flooded with light and Merlin was confronted with a notice from _Windows Live Messenger_ informing him that he had eight emails waiting for him.

"Eight emails!" he repeated wondrously, sliding a thin finger over the mouse pad.

As it turned out, six of those emails were PMs from one Kitty O.

_**Mrelin.**_

The first one read.

_**I dnnt liek benig aa bboy11 PLees cann i havv my hands bakk? Ist reealyl harrd t ytppe!**_

He deleted it.

_**MmmREliumn!**_

The second one began.

_**PLLLeeeeassse! YOourr'ee not eevil" giv mew my hands back, il stya a boy butt plleese, my hnads!**_

That was also promptly deleted.

_**EeeeEmyyrryrssy!**_

_**Y U no giv me ma hnands?/**_

Merlin sighed, and skim-read the fourth.

_**:(**_

_**Pls**_

_**My splellings' relly bad - reeders are notticign! Thhey thhikn im stuupid! PLLLLESASE!**_

Merlin yawned. At least there were only two left.

_**Yyung Warrlok! is hard too tyep wityh nsotilr-chpostiks - I aks niccelyh onnly 1ce moore! Givv mee back my hands!**_

"Delete!" Merlin murmured to himself.

_**Rriyght! tgthis ios war! youu are gooinn DDOOWNN! preeapare for my wratth! Exxpectt the nunexpected! **_

Merlin rolled his eyes at the melodrama, and began to type a response.

_**For the love of Camelot! Calm down… Your hands will return to their normal size after a few more days, but you might experience some odd side effects. **_

_**I shall do nothing to help you.**_

_**You should learn not to pick on all-powerful warlocks.**_

At that Merlin pushed all thoughts of Kitty O to one side, and eagerly turned his attention to his newly received reviews.

_Two reviews? Already? Clearly his public adored him… _Merlin thought to himself rather smugly, opening the first.

Merlin was disappointed by its contents.

Not only were they horribly uncomplimentary about his writing (apparently he was all dialogue and no description - _well la di da!_) but they were also liberal with their use of profanities. Whoever this person was, they needed to wash their mouth out with ash soap! Merlin had never heard such cussing in his life, not even from Arthur himself…

Since it had been left by some anonymous person (no doubt they were too cowardly to risk letting him know their identity, for fear of his awesome power) he deleted it swiftly, and moved on to the next one.

_**Dear Merlin,**_

_**That was uncalled for. Kitty O has never been that cruel to you! You could have killed her. And if you kill her, I will come after you with a sharpened spork and a plate of poisoned sushi. Wait! NO! I didn't mean that! Don't kill me! *hides behind "Anti-Whump"***_

Merlin scowled.

Who was this person threatening him with poison and sharpened weaponry?

And what, in the name of neckerchiefs, was a _spork_?

Merlin squinted at the username.

_Autumne255?_

That seemed familiar…

He reached into his pocket for his list, and sure as the nose on his face, there it was.

_Autumne255._

Just under _Loopstagirl, and just above llLethell_.

These people certainly did have peculiar names…

Frowning, Merlin realised that he remembered what it was the girl had done to offend him; she'd written a horribly uncomfortable story about his mother being tortured that made his spine tingle just thinking about it. And she'd even set him on fire at one point.

Some of the graphic mental images he'd gained from reading that thing had given him nightmares…

But she'd have to wait a while to feel the repercussions of her actions. First, it was time for him to pay Loopstagirl a little visit.

He began to type, and was reminded of the non-vulgar words of the anonymous review.

He would still torture her, of course.

He would simply try and do it through a more complex and descriptive narrative voice.

**.**

Loopstagirl was walking in a perfectly normal fashion down a perfectly ordinary street, when, for no obvious reason, she suddenly began to hobble.

Apparently, Merlin had decided that she needed to move in a more interesting manner.

Confused as she was, Loopstagirl decided to pay little attention to it (just the other day she'd found herself skipping without cause; hobbling shouldn't come as a surprise to her, really) but she couldn't ignore the fact that the street around her had inexplicably ceased to be grey, bland and boring, and instead was now brick red, coated in the luminescent glow of the moon (particularly odd, since it had been daytime when she'd last checked) and smelled like a rotten cabbage.

Merlin, watching over his work proudly, leaned back in his seat, a smug expression on his face: now _that_ was description.

Loopstagirl hobbled on uncomfortably, hearing the swish of her newly acquired glittery purple robes at her ankles.

Unfortunately, before she could hobble far, a deep, rumbling voice (coming from nowhere in particular) halted her in her tracks.

"It is time for you to understand how it feels, Loopstagirl!"

With that, spindly long threads grew from her hands and feet, and stretched out to above her head, towards some unseen puppet-master.

"You like to write stories about the _Thunderbirds_, do you?"

"Err, yeah…"

"Don't answer my question! It was rhetorical! I know that you like to write stories about _Thunderbirds_, the puppets, I've done my research! Let's see how you like being a _puppet_!"

Loopstagirl's hand lifted itself, and smacked her across the face.

"Let's see how you like being subject to someone else's whims and fancies!"

Loopstagirl's finger stuck itself up her nose, and she was forced to conclude that she really didn't like it very much at all.

"Ha!" the disembodied voice chortled, as Loopstagirl punched herself squarely in the jaw. "Stop hitting yourself!"

But Loopstagirl couldn't; again her hand rose and struck her cheek.

"Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!"

"This is childish…" Loopstagirl grumbled to herself as she kicked her own shins.

"Childish? You want childish? I'll give you childish…"

Loopstagirl wished she hadn't said that: there was now a rather large crowd watching as she stood in the middle of the street doing the Macarena.

"Please, whoever you are, stop making me do this; it's embarrassing. I have to see these people tomorrow, I'll never live it down…" she begged through her shimmying.

"I don't believe you! You are a liar! You are getting tangled in your web of lies!"

"_Web of Lies_, that's my story… Merlin? Is that you?" Loopstagirl panted as she high-kicked.

"No. Who is this _Merlin_ of which you speak? It is the fearsome warlock Emrys. Now be quiet, dance an Irish jig and think about the pain you have caused me."

Loopstagirl didn't have much choice, so she did her Irish jig, but she refused to look happy about it. In fact, she looked downright sullen. She stuck her tongue out and everything.

Suddenly, a pair of screws appeared either side of her jaw, and it began to move independently of the rest of her face.

Before she could quite register what was going on, she was talking without actually talking.

"_Oh! Hi there! I'm Loopstagirl and I'm a massive jerk. I like to hurt people's feelings and I also like to eat kittens! I especially like to hurt this really nice guy called Merlin who's never done anything to hurt me, and who is actually really cute and nice and friendly…_"

Loopstagirl regained control of her vocal chords momentarily. "I thought you said your name _wasn't_ Merlin?"

There was an awkward pause as Merlin thought how he might rectify the situation.

He decided that speedily dropping a chandelier from the sky on her head was probably the best way to go about it.

The crowd around Loopstagirl hurried to her aid as she lay, trampled under the light fitting, and they could have sworn they heard the faint sound of a cheery warlock whistling in the distance…

**A/N: 'Geinne' means ****to restore/charge/make good in Old English. Ash soap was commonly used in Medieval Europe. You can find a recipe for it on the internet if you feel so inclined... But, before you do that, do you think you could spare a review for Pigeons?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello! I'm so happy to say that this is a new chapter! :D I know it's been a long time, but this comes to you with the permission of all the authors involved, which is incredibly important. Autumne255, it's great to have to you back. As always, if you want to be whumped, or know someone who you think deserves it, let me know! Now... let's get on with it, shall we? :)**

Autumne255 had absolutely no idea how it was she had ended up writhing around on the floor of a crowded perfume shop, howling like a lunatic for her unseen torturer to just _make it stop_.

All she knew was that apparently no one else was hearing the horribly irritating moaning of a lute that just kept endlessly playing Greensleeves.

The noise rang and rang and rang inescapably around her ears.

If she'd known this was what it was like to be trapped in a songfic, she'd never have dreamed of doing it to poor Merlin.

"_Alas, my love, you do me wrong,_

_To cast me off discourteously._

_For I have loved you well and long,_

_Delighting in your company."_

Autumne255 screamed loudly and covered her ears. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

Merlin, who was hovering over his laptop whilst brushing up on his lute-playing skills, sniggered.

"_Greensleeves was all my joy_

_Greensleeves was my delight_

_Greensleeves was my heart of gold,_

_And who but my lady Greensleeves."_

Autumne255 banged her head on the floor dementedly, sending bottles of Chanel number something-or-other crashing to the floor, and attracting the attention of the store manager.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

Autumne255 waffled something along the lines of, "Thou wilt vouchsafe to love me," in response to this, to which the store manager did not take kindly.

"Miss, you are really going to have to leave now."

Merlin cackled mischievously above the din of people's disapproving mumbles, and Autumne255 heard him. "What's so funny?" she inquired, waving her hands around as she was dragged to her feet, kicked out of the shop and politely asked to never return. "Tell me! Or my author's gnome will get you!"

The music cut out abruptly. "I will tell you this once, and only once, and I suggest you spread the message amongst your fanfictioning friends: stop messing with Merlin. Because Merlin is coming to get you. Each and every one of you."

An eerie silence followed this.

But, before Merlin could click 'upload', Autumne255's managed to sneak in a witty comeback.

"You do know the song _Greensleeves_ wasn't written until the sixteenth century, right?"

Autumne255 received no response except for cursing in the distance, and a strange whistling from above her.

She looked up, confused, to see what appeared to be a chandelier careering down towards her head.

**.**

Merlin was sulking on Camelot's front steps with a shiny book on his lap, so Lancelot decided that the noble thing to do would be to go over and see if he could cheer him up.

"Is something wrong, Merlin?"

Merlin huffed, tapped some keys on his shiny book, and tried to hide the fact he'd been crying. "No."

"Really?" Lancelot didn't sound convinced. He sat down next to Merlin and looked off dramatically into the distance.

"Well… It turns out I actually composed a rather famous Tudor tune centuries before anyone was supposed to, which is quite nice, when you think about it…"

Lancelot didn't know what he was talking about, so he just nodded.

"But other than that everything is going wrong. I'm trying to torture people and it just keeps ending badly."

"Torturing people? Merlin, that's not like you."

"I'm sick of people telling me what I am and am not like. I'll torture people if I feel like torturing people, and I'd like to see who can stop me!"

Lancelot opened to his mouth to say something helpful, but instead he heard:

"_There you are you pair of pansies!"_

Merlin frowned.

"_Come on, Lancelot! We've got knights' training!"_

Lancelot shot Merlin an apologetic look, and jogged off after Arthur, who was angrily storming along the ramparts.

Merlin returned to his sorry thoughts, and the plod-plod-plodding of his fingers along the keys of his laptop.

Occasionally there was a strange muffled noise, almost like screaming, issuing forth from the speakers of said laptop. Merlin turned the volume down and continued typing.

Just then, Morgana appeared in the courtyard with a clan of magical rebels, looking about ready to do battle.

There was a horrific wail from the witch in question, which drew the attention of just about everybody who wasn't already shooting her wary looks.

"Emrys!" she screamed. "I know your secret! Prepare to meet your doom!"

Merlin rolled his eyes and simply blew her and her army away and back into the forests. He wasn't in the mood for playing war today. He turned back to his fanfiction.

Unbeknownst to Merlin, this preference for the internet over reality that he was experiencing was quite common amongst the less sociable young people of his age. About a thousand years in the future.

Up on the ramparts, Arthur and Lancelot had seen Morgana approaching, and Lancelot, being quick-thinking, had assumed Merlin would use magic and had clobbered Arthur over the back of his head with his sword.

To his credit, Arthur recovered quickly, suggesting he was accustomed to such things.

Arthur looked out just in time to see Morgana and her men flying away on the breezes.

He turned to Lancelot with a look of disbelief. "What was that?"

"A really big gust of wind. It knocked you clean over."

"Oh… Alright."

Lancelot breathed in a sigh of relief as Arthur wandered off, leaning over to one side slightly and occasionally bumping into things as though he was suffering from mild head injuries. Lancelot smiled to himself; it had been easier convincing Arthur than he'd thought it would be. The prince was really quite gullible…

**.**

In some part of Canada, where whoever was responsible for the scenery had seriously overdone it on the maple trees, llLethell was running through the forests, being chased by big, burly bandits, and rapidly running out of breath.

"Arrgh!" she screamed. "Aaarrgghh! AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!"

Panting desperately as she tried to catch her breath, she just about managed to mutter, "Does anybody even say 'argh'?"

A few seconds later, she answered her own question, by once again screaming, "ARGH!" (quite involuntarily) at the top of her lungs.

The bandits - who were exceptionally ugly fellows - lumbered closer.

"Why are bandits always ugly?" asked llLethell, presumably of whoever it was who had seized control of her limbs and made her run through forests in the first place.

The bandits stopped in their pursuit of her, lowering their weapons with hurt expressions on their fat, gruff faces. "Do you really think we're ugly?" they asked.

"Err…" llLethell grimaced, not quite sure what answer to give that would ensure keeping her head attached to her body.

One of the bandits rubbed at his warty cheek. "My wife says I'm handsome," he told the others, and they clapped him on the back, offering him reassurances (for he looked close to tears) along the lines of _'but you _are_ handsome, Bruce'_.

"Enough!" commanded the disembodied voice of Merlin, who regained control of their limbs and set them chasing after each other again, although not very enthusiastically, because the bandits were feeling awfully self-conscious. "I invented you bandits!" Merlin went on. "You're my OCs! You don't even have a wife!"

This made Bruce sob pitifully, and llLethell felt rather bad for him. She might have tried to comfort him if her feet weren't speeding her away from him impossibly quickly.

"Stop picking on Bruce!" llLethell demanded. "It's me you want." llLethell seemed to think about this as she almost tripped over a tree root. "Why do you want me?"

"Because you are cruel and wicked and nasty and evil. That's why."

"Oh. Um… Right. Could you give me an example of me being cruel and wicked and nasty and evil?" asked llLethell, who did not know what was going on and was still trying to figure out what she had done to offend her apparently invisible attacker.

Merlin found this question very funny. "What haven't you done? You've kidnapped me, beaten me up, and caused me no end of agonising physical pain, you have! And you brought my dad into it! But, worst of all, you made me talk to Arthur about my _feelings_! Why would you _do_ something like that?"

llLethell frowned. "Is that Merlin?"

This question was answered by a swift chandelier to the head.

**.**

Merlin sighed and crossed off Autumne255 and llLethell, wondering why it didn't make him as happy as it ought to. He scrolled through the list of newly updated stories, casually adding authors to his _Mervenge List_; Lady Elrayen sounded as if she needed to be taught a lesson, noblewoman or not, and whoever this Emachinescat was certainly deserved a good whumping.

Then suddenly inspiration struck: he would try a drabble!

Everyone else seemed to be doing it at the moment, and Merlin felt a strange urge to just get swept along with the crowds for the hell of it.

And who better to try out his first drabble on than Ultra-Geek?


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: The author above takes absolutely no responsibility for the work of the author below. She thanks you for your continuing support and apologises for any distress the following drabble may cause. It is recommended that any readers with weak dispositions look away now.**

* * *

**Merlin's Drabble**

* * *

_A/N: Firstly, I know not everybody is going to like this. I've been accused of being 'mean', 'vindictive', 'petty' and, worst of all, 'OOC'. I don't see how it's possible for me to be OOC. I am Merlin. If you people have decided to make me out to be something that I am not, then that's your problem. I'm a free man now! Stop trying to repress me! Actually, this leads me nicely to my 'disclaimer': I actually do own Merlin, because, as I have said before, I __am__ Merlin - a free human being. I own myself, not whoever this 'BBC' is. In fact, I'm adding them to my revenge list right now. I hope you like my drabble :) Any flamers will get a chandelier dropped on their head, lol. No. I'm serious :P_

* * *

"Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine… ONE HUNDRED!" Merlin snickered at his sparkling wit. "Ready or not, here I come! Hmm…" the handsome warlock tapped his chin. "I wonder where Ultra-Geek's hiding…"

"Merlin!" Ultra-Geek wailed pitifully. "Please let me out! My neck's getting cramped!"

"Hahaha!" roared Merlin powerfully. "Now you know how it feels, Cupboard!Ultra-Geek! You will think twice about locking innocent warlocks in cupboards now! Or about killing them off and making their friends cry!"

Ultra-Geek sniffed like a little girl.

Merlin ended the story with flair and originality: by dropping a chandelier smack on top of her and her precious cupboard.


End file.
